Beautiful Words
by i.paint.the.sky
Summary: A look into the head of Takako as Mikage, with emphasis on her relationship with Mawata.  Warning, some sexual overtones and references, particularly involving Takako and Mawata.  This fic is inspired by the question: did Takako ever listen to Wordsgate?


(A/N: In this fic I refer to Takako as "Mikage" at points where she is masquerading as a maid.

Also, here's a general warning for sexual references/overtones, including some of the female/female variety.)

**Beautiful Words**

_"Welcome to Wordsgate, I am your host, Sasame…"_

His voice was incredibly beautiful, soothing. It drifted into her ears, sending a wave of relaxation through her body. The tone was rich, soothing, and almost seductive. But of course, what else could one expect of the Leafe Knight of Sound?

Mikage let her head slip beneath the bath water, disrupting Sasame's power. It wasn't safe, listening to him and remembering when he had been an ally. No, those times were long gone now, never to be recaptured. She couldn't let him hold any sway over her now.

Her hand slid down her body, a bar of soap moving slick across skin. She enjoyed the feeling, this wonderful sensation of being touched. Even if it was by her own hands, the contact was pleasurable, almost sinful. And then there were the times when it _was_ sinful.

Her soft skin was clean and beginning to wrinkle now. With a sigh she stood up and stepped out of the tub, dripping with warm water. She looked into the mirror, studying her reflection. Her naked image looked just like she had 16 years ago, still young and supple. Besides her hair, now trimmed short, everything about her the same. Mikage laughed suddenly. How could the Knights have not found her by now? Hayate even worked at the mansion, yet still they were completely clueless. Idiots, every last one of them.

Wrapping a towel around herself, she walked towards the bedroom. Before she left, she turned the radio off. She couldn't explain why she bothered listening to that show but she did, every day; falling under the thrall of beautiful words.

* * *

The Awayuki residence was incredibly large, almost disgustingly so. Not even a family of ten would need so much room and these people were only half of that – and two of them recent additions as well. It was simply ridiculous and utterly wasteful.

But it did allow Mikage free access to the new Pretear; an estate so large required a high number of staff to run it. Getting a place among them had been child's play, the fabricated resume passing without suspicion. Her new employer was far too busy and important to bother checking up on any of her references, a fact she had counted on. As long as she did what was required of her, there would be no questions asked.

It was a boring, mindless job. She hated every moment of it, having to serve others. But it was necessary, both for watching the Pretear and the stupid Knights, and in preparing her greatest tool. Her puppet of darkness.

Awayuki Mawata, once Houjo Mawata. A child of remarriage, lost in the world her new family was creating. She was pathetic and alone. She was the perfect choice.

At first, Mawata had reminded Mikage of herself, of that pitiful creature she had once been. This comparison quickly collapsed however; Mawata was much worse. All her life she had been in hiding, always wearing a mask. Always alone in a world she despised.

But not now. Now she had Mikage, who would always listen, who was more than willing to be an outlet for all this pain. Mikage spent so many hours listening. And, at times, she did much more. She was the shoulder to cry on, the arms to hold this young woman who was still a child in so many ways; a child longing for her father's embrace. With Mikage, she could experience some of that comfort again.

The relationship was more than parental though, sometimes far more. At times, Mikage could feel a stirring inside her as her arms wrapped around the girl's fragile body, as her hands caressed soft skin and young curves.

She had to back off then, to step back within herself. Mawata was a tool, a means to an end – nothing more. Nothing.

And she was coming along quite nicely now, with barely any resistance left in her. But barely was still something and this something still bound her to the existence. And all because of those damnable beautiful words.

Sasame.

No matter. She would break this spell and make Mawata hers. It was only a matter of time before she found the right way to do it.

* * *

"Takako!"

Her name. She hadn't heard it in so long, but now there it was. She stood still for a moment and felt Mikage evaporate, returning to the nothingness from which she had come. Finally, they had found her.

The scene that unfolded around her was unexpected, as declarations of love and betrayal were spewed forth. She couldn't handle it, not then. But later – as she sat in that broken chapel, alone with her memories – a plan began to emerge.

Beautiful words. They would be her ultimate weapon.

* * *


End file.
